Loose Ends
by Pegasus
Summary: A letter of gratitude helps alleviate the pain in a heart.


**Loose Ends**

Julia held the little bundle close to her heart, her eyes full of tears. "Our daughter," she said softly to her husband. "Our precious little girl." 

"Rinoa." The General's voice was full of emotion even as hers was. He had never, in his wildest dreams imagined that a woman as beautiful, as full of life and talent would be his wife, would present him with the prettiest little baby he had ever seen. And yet.yet he knew where her heart lay. He knew, and he understood. 

She had often talked of the days when she sang at the hotel, talked about the shy, handsome and bashful young soldier who had admired her from a careful distance. He had seen the way her eyes would mist over with memories and would immediately bring up a different, less evocative subject. The quagmire of memories that Julia had was best left alone: not stirred up. 

The General looked down at his young wife, who had finally fallen asleep, the child on her chest. She had not had a particularly difficult delivery - well, the General mused, it hadn't seemed difficult to him but what would he know? Gently, gently he took the sleeping babe from her mothers arms and held her close. "Rinoa," he repeated, his voice no more than a whisper. "My little Rinoa."

He lay her in the cot next to her mother and pulled the blanket up around Julia's ears. Quietly he left the room, closing the door behind him and headed to his study. His mind was a-whirl with emotions. He knew of only one way to release his feelings and that was by the power of his pen.

He sat at the desk and took up the hand-engraved silver pen that Julia had presented him with as a wedding present. Weighting it in his hand, he stared for many long moments out of the window until finally he began to write, the pen forming a mouth for the words in his hear. 

"Dear Laguna," he wrote. He stared for what seemed like an eternity at the name. There it was. His jealousy - made flesh. 

Eventually, he snapped himself out of his reverie and continued writing. "You do not know me, but I know you. Not personally, but I feel as though I know everything about you. The colour of your hair, the way you stand.and particularly, what kind of man you are. 

"Laguna, I owe you a great deal. It is funny how events in a man's life can make him step back - take stock. One such event has occurred to me and it with great difficulty I write to you now. 

"My wife.let us call her 'J' - has, within the past hour, given birth to our first child. I love them both with a passion I never thought myself capable of possessing. 

"Yet she does not love me. At least.she does not love me as I wished she would. Many have been the times I have smiled at her, slumbering, lost in some pleasant dream or other, then stopped being happy, wondering, fearing that she is dreaming of you. 

"It has been a hard adjustment for me. I know that J's waking moments are filled with enjoyment of her life, of happiness in the security I can give her. But her sleep is full of visions.of eyes that watch her and say everything that words cannot. Of your eyes, Laguna. She dreams of you - and it breaks my heart. 

"It breaks my heart to know that she would leave me for you without a second thought and yet.and yet I find myself wanting to write to you to thank you for the opportunity to fill your shoes. I may not fit them perfectly - but Julia has made me a better man." 

The General ceased his endless scratching for some time as he closed his eyes, submerging himself in blissful memories of the day Julia and he were married, of that moment, less than an hour ago, when the strong, newborn lungs of Rinoa had shattered the aura of peace that the General had woven around himself. 

He turned his attention back to the letter before him. "You will never read this letter." he continued, "You would probably question my sanity - writing a letter that I know I am never going to send, that the recipient will never see. Yet I feel obliged to put down in words my gratitude to you. You gave me the chance to pick up the loose ends of J' s life, to tie them into some sort of security. Without you, she and I would never be together. 

"I wish you long life and every happiness." 

The General did not sign the letter. He took it up and re-read it, silently. So much sentimental twaddle, he thought, a sigh in his heart. 

He crumpled the letter up and threw it into the fire. As the flames licked around the words, burning them forever, he felt the shadow that had lived in his consciousness begin to lift. 

Without another word, the General turned and walked away from the fears of the past and into the bright light cast by the arrival of his daughter.


End file.
